


falling backwards

by sapphictomaz



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Study, Death, Episode: s06e03 The Children of Gabriel, M/M, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-01
Updated: 2019-06-01
Packaged: 2020-04-06 06:18:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19056937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sapphictomaz/pseuds/sapphictomaz
Summary: Tag to 6x03 & 6x05. Murphy dies for less than a minute, and in that time has to face the ghosts of his past.





	falling backwards

**Author's Note:**

> [dusts off the cobwebs of the murphamy tag] is anyone still reading this? 
> 
> this spoils some of 6x03 if you haven't seen it yet, and draws off of canon 6x05, but doesn't spoil it.
> 
> there's some scenes in this that are meant to be kinda disturbing, but i would say it's not worse than anything in canon. 
> 
> the title is from "pluto" by sleeping at last.

**the introduction;**

He doesn’t think the eclipse is affecting him anymore, but Murphy guesses this doesn’t matter when Bellamy’s got him face down in the water, unable to breathe.

Idly, he feels his shoulder sting as the two old bullet wounds and the one newer stab wound ache under the duress. The fact that Bellamy is much stronger than him and that he  _ can’t breathe _ doesn’t matter to him all that much, not in the moment. Instead he thinks that this planet can’t be too different from the old one if this is where they’ve already ended up.

Out of all the places he’d tried to call home, he liked the Ring best, he thinks. Up until the end, those five years were the most peaceful he’s ever had. Sure, he and Emori were tumultuous and yes, he spent a good couple weeks in an algae coma, but there was the time that Bellamy showed up at his door with a handful of faux flowers that Monty had helped him fashion as an apology gift for acting weird after their infamous one night stand.

It wasn’t that infamous. No one else knew about it, not even Monty. Murphy acted like it was just a funny story between them, but it meant - something. It means something.

Bellamy is a leader. He is fearless, flawless. He does not fail. Years ago, Bellamy tried to kill Murphy by stringing a rope around his throat, and then continued to take his breath away whenever they stole a moment together. 

It’s fitting, Murphy guesses, that this is how it finally ends. And then - 

and then there is no “and then,” and it ends.

 

**the journey;**

He feels his body shut down, piece by piece, but his mind stays reeling. He can’t move, or speak, or open his eyes but he is dying. This much he knows for sure. He’s come close to death before in his life, but he’s never lost the battle before. He’s never had to learn what being a casualty of war feels like.

Murphy is being removed from existence, and it doesn’t hurt, but he  _ aches. _

It’s just him, darkness, the memory of every horrible thing he’s ever done, and the sound. It doesn’t feel like he has lungs but he hears himself gasping for air, breathing becoming heavy, anxiety-ridden. His heartbeat rises between his ears, straining, a varying  _ thud thud thud _ , amplifying the fear entering his body.

_ Thud-thud-thud….thud…  _

and he’s breathing, all he can hear is breathing, full of panic, but there is no heartbeat anymore. His heart stops and seconds later, so does his breath.

And then it’s just him, darkness, and the ever-presence of regret.

John Murphy is dead. He knows he is dead. But if he knows he is dead, then is he really? If he is dead, but he knows he is then - then this is what comes after, and there are no pearly gates in the distance, only -  _ this _ .

He wonders if it’s  _ this _ forever, just him with an endless amount of time to ruminate on all his mistakes with no distractions - he’s never had an opportunity because for Murphy, it’s always kept going. It’s never stopped for long enough to properly loathe himself for all that he’s done - 

_ and then. _

 

**the arrival;**

With an audible  _ thud _ , he’s in his childhood bedroom on the Ark. His body is back, seemingly restored, and he thinks he remembers everything that happened if he tries, but this place is definitely familiar.

The metal walls and cage-like quality of the room remain, but everything else has been destroyed. The sheets on the bed are twisted and thrown half-off the mattress, which is in bad shape itself. The bookshelves and night-table are all broken, contents spilled all over the floor. The lights flicker on and off, sparks shooting off from a broken wire hanging from the ceiling. 

None of this matters to him so much, except for the photograph lying by his feet, the glass frame that once contained it broken into a thousand shards. He remembers his photo - it is him with his mother and father on either side of him, smiling, and he is very young and innocent but he is smiling. Seeing it now brings a smile to Murphy’s face.

The lights flicker before shutting off for one, two, three seconds, and when they come back online, the smiling faces of his parents in the photograph have been replaced by the mutilated forms of their corpses and instead of a happy young boy, he is replaced by a sickly child and - 

he drops the photograph, unable to hold it in his now-shaking hand. His breath comes short and fast, and while an important thought enters the back of his mind -  _ this is not real, none of this is real _ \- fear overtakes him and it is forgotten just as quickly.

He can’t stay in this room anymore. Slowly, he makes his way over the glass on the floor and leaves the room, shutting the door behind him. The common room of his family’s old living quarters is in shambles, too, much like his bedroom. It doesn’t bother him.

There is a window in their quarters. Other families always said they were extremely lucky to have one, and for a moment, Murphy sees what they mean. Earth is visible down below - not on fire, as he got used to seeing it; no, the planet looks blue and tranquil. Space is vast, space is endless, but space is also beautiful.

He draws his eyes away from the view, for a moment, until there is a loud  _ thud _ on the window. The corpse of his father has slammed against the window. Dead, empty eyes stare directly at Murphy as he  _ screams _ . Skeletal fingers  _ tap _ on the window, and then begin to pound, the only part of the body to move. His father’s face remains still, void of the usual loving expression - instead, his mouth is open in a silent scream, no doubt still plastered on from the day he died.

Murphy screams and screams and screams until he turns around and his mother is standing an inch from him, her hot breath on his face, reeking of alcohol. She, too, has eyes that haven’t seen light in years. Her face is gaunt, the lines of her skull evident through what little flesh is left hanging on her body.

_ “Why’d you kill us, John?” _ she whispers. Murphy’s voice is frozen in fear; he cannot scream. He can only take a step back, but when he does so, his mother pushes closer to him, forcing him backwards.  _ “Why’d you kill us?” _

He didn’t, he didn’t, he didn’t, he didn’t - 

_ did he? _

He’s taken several steps back, now, unable to focus on anything else than those dead eyes, bearing down on him - 

his back hits the glass of the window, and he can almost hear his father screaming outside. 

It is this sound that gives him a burst of courage, and he shouts louder than he ever has, pushing his mother away from him in a bout of strength. Murphy doesn’t think he can do it again, so he runs, he runs with everything he has until he reaches the door and shuts it behind him, leaning against it heavily as he catches his breath.

_ It’s not real, _ something inside him screams, but it  _ is _ . He can still feel the heat of his mother’s breath, and he can still hear the echoes of his father’s endless scream. And they were right; he did kill them. 

_ It’s not real _ , well,  _ maybe it is. _

The hallway he’s in is just as destroyed as his quarters had been, but he picks a direction and starts walking because he knows that he can’t stay there. The usual ambient  _ hum _ of the Ark is gone, and the entire place is eerily silent, except for the sound of his footsteps and the occasional spark shooting out of the many broken wires. 

He keeps going forwards until he rounds a corner to a large observatory room, one he is very familiar with - this room marks the entrance to the main Ring, which still holds sentimental value in his heart. However, when he turns the corner, three people are already there, facing away from Murphy.

It’s been many years since he’s seen the boy in the middle, but even from behind he can recognize him anywhere. “Mbege?”

On cue, Mbege turns around, and he looks very much the same as he did when they first landed on Earth from the dropship except that his throat has been slit and blood pours from the wound, dripping onto the Ark’s floor. “No,” Murphy whispers, instinctually taking a step back. 

“Do you even care that I’m dead, Murphy?” Mbege says. As he does, the other two figures turn around as well.

In unison, they turn unseeing eyes towards him. “Do you care that you killed us?” they say, at the same time, and Murphy would know the eyes of Connor and Myles anywhere.

Fear strikes through his unbeating heart, but he plants himself in place. “Of course I do,” he says, gravely.

“Then why’d you do it?” Connor says, drawing closer. The three of them form a circle around Murphy, but he tries to stay firmly in place as he stares down the faces of his victims.

“I’m sorry,” Murphy tries, and he is, he  _ really is _ . “I regret so many things.”

“You should,” Mbege growls, “but that doesn’t help us much.” 

With that, he shoves Murphy backwards, and he falls, only for the three of them to start kicking and abusing him from all angles. He doesn’t fight back because he knows he deserves this. They deserve to get their revenge, he knows, and he understands even as he spits blood and feels his ribs break.

The lights flicker, and from somewhere in the distance, he hears a  _ thud _ . When he opens his eyes, his body is intact, and the three of them have vanished.

Murphy stays on the ground for what could be days. His body trembles, coupled with fear and exhaustion. Tears sting his eyes and scar his cheeks as they fall. He knows exactly what he did to deserve to end up here, but he doesn’t know how much more he can take. 

Still, he eventually picks himself up off the floor because that’s what he’s always done, and moves further into the Ring.

He turns another corner, and the scenery shifts. He’s still in the Ark, but he doesn’t recognize the hallway he’s found himself in. There are six doors, three on the right and two on the left side, and one at the very end. Unlike the previous halls, this one is in pristine condition, but there are soft sounds coming from each door. The door at the very end, which must be his destination, is tightly locked by chains stretching across it. 

As he takes a step into the hallway, a wall slides out of nowhere behind him and blocks off his exit. There is no escape from whatever this is, but what could be worse than what he’s already seen?

The door on his immediate right opens easily. There doesn’t seem to be anything in it at first glance, so he enters slowly. An old woman sits in the corner on the floor, tears streaming down her face. “I’m  _ alone! _ ” she wails, rocking back and forth as hysteria grows. “I’m all  _ alone! _ ”

As he walks forwards, realization dawns on him. “Harper,” he whispers. “What happened to you? Where’s Monty?”

At Monty’s name, Harper’s head snaps up and she makes eye contact. “Don’t say his name,” she hisses. “He left me  _ alone _ . And so did you. You all did!”

The lights dim, and when they are back, Murphy sees an old man in the other corner of the room who was not there before. This time, Murphy knows right away that it’s Monty. 

“You wanted Jasper dead,” Monty says, “and how he is. He’s dead. You killed him, didn’t you? You got what you always wanted. He’s dead. He’s dead. He’s  _ dead _ !”

Harper starts screaming about being alone while Monty continues to chant, and he’s wrong, he didn’t actually want Jasper dead, but who’s to say what he would’ve done if he’d got to the dropship before everyone else? Maybe he did want this. Maybe - maybe - 

He leaves the room, unable to do anything else, and he doesn’t  _ want to do this anymore _ , but he crosses the hall and opens the next door. 

Immediately, he is greeted by Echo, chained to the wall as blood is being drawn from her, just as Mount Weather did. She looks near death as a man leans over her in a lab coat, no doubt the one doing this to her. “Help me!” she screams as she sees him. “Help me, please!”

The man turns around at her cries, and reveals himself to be the one of the few people that Murphy is glad is dead. “John,” Thelonious Jaha says, smiling, “I’m so glad you could join us.”

Echo screams, snapping Murphy out of his shock. “What are you doing?” he says. 

“Exactly what you did to her,” he says. “Absolutely nothing.”

“You’re killing her!”

“No,  _ you’re _ killing her. While she was trapped in Mount Weather, what were you doing to help? You joined me on a pointless crusade that ended in the resurgence of the City of Light, which you then had to work to destroy.  _ Your _ actions caused her more pain.”

Murphy’s throat feels dry. “I - no, that’s on  _ you _ .”

“Your choice to follow me was selfish,” Jaha continues. “You should know that.”

Echo’s body falls limp. Jaha continues to smile, menacingly, until Murphy backs out of the room. On autopilot at this point, he tries the next door, not out of curiosity but out of necessity to  _ get the hell out of here _ \- 

Raven lies on the floor of this one, her bad leg severed from her body. Her eyes are full of betrayal. “How could you do this to me?” she whispers. Murphy doesn’t stay in that room any longer than he has to. 

He darts across the hall to the next one. It makes sense, in a weird, twisted way, that he has to see all the rooms before he can get out of here. He has to get out of here. It doesn’t matter what he’s seeing, even if it’s true and they’re a result of things that he did ( _ it’s not real! it’s not real! _ ) he doesn’t have the courage or spirit to  _ do _ anything about any of this.

What’s done is done.

The next room is quieter than the last two. Emori stands in the center, her back to him. Murphy’s now learned from experience that this cannot mean anything good. 

“John,” she whispers. “John, they killed me.” And then she turns around, and her body is covered in radiation scars and boils, damaged from the chamber that he’d tried to save her from back in Becca’s lab. He must have failed. He must have failed and they must have tested on her, and she must have died horribly. He doesn’t remember it but he doesn’t remember anything different and here she is, dead and suffering, and  _ it must be his fault _ .

“I’m so sorry,” he whispers, letting the tears fall this time. He’s been on the edge of an adrenaline high for hours, days, years now and seeing this, the result of what happens when he loves someone, is enough to break him.

But Murphy is not someone who can be broken. There is still one more room left.

He backs out of the room slowly and feels something  _ crunch _ under his foot as he re-enters the hallway.  _ A flower _ . Calla lilies are strewn all over the hallway, colourful petals lining the hallway in a beautiful display of disaster. 

Breath breaks in his throat as he knows what this must mean, but onwards he presses. He knows what is behind this door, but still, he pushes it open -  _ and there he is. _

There is nothing in the room but a single bed, on which Bellamy Blake lies, eyes open and unblinking and very much dead. He holds a bouquet of faux calla lilies over his heart, and there is a smile on his face, but it doesn’t change the fact that there is no life in him.

He doesn’t know what to say. He’s already said so much, but if this is where they’ve ended up, then he can never say enough. 

_ Thud _ .

The chains on the final door fall to the ground, but as he steps back into the hallway, he coughs on encroaching smoke. There are flames at the other end of the hallway, slowly moving door to door with their sights set on Murphy. 

He risks one last glance at Bellamy. He hopes he was at least at peace when he died. The flames grow closer, hot against his skin, and for a moment, he yearns to stay and burn in them for eternity.

He opens the door and lets the Ark and everything else fall away. There is absolutely nothing, just him, darkness, and a shallow, empty feeling in his heart, and Murphy’s sure that he deserves everything that comes after this point, because if he could destroy all that, then maybe it’s best that he’s no longer alive - 

and then, he is wrong.

 

**the resolution;**

It is mere seconds until Murphy’s awake, adrenaline still coursing through his body. Back in the land of the living, his memory isn’t so fuzzy - he remembers everything that happened before, during, and he can guess at what will happen after. 

He is glad Emori is alive, but even she can’t tame his demons.

Bellamy and the others return later, and he’s happy they’re alive, but he can’t focus. “I’m sorry,” Bellamy says to him again, much later. 

“You don’t have to keep saying that,” Murphy replies with a heavy sigh. 

“I’m just glad you’re alright.”

“Yeah, well. I’m alive, at least.”

Bellamy doesn’t immediately reply to this, and that’s when Murphy knows that he was told of how he reacted when he first woke up. “I’m fine,” he says to break the awkward tension. “I just - saw some unsettling stuff, that’s all.”

“Clarke said that you think you went to hell.”

“Maybe I did.”

“Yeah, maybe. But - I think that even hell wouldn’t be able to contain you, Murphy.”

He scoffs. “Oh, is that supposed to make me feel better?”

“Doesn’t it?”

Murphy just chuckles, turning his head away. “Your confidence in me is astounding, Bellamy. Really.”

“Your humour tells me that you’re going to be fine, Murphy.”

“I  _ am _ fine.”

“Sure. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” 

Bellamy Blake is a fearless leader. He is flawless; yet, his only flaw is his capacity for love when it comes to one John Murphy. Murphy supposes that he must come to terms with the fact that it’s not actually a flaw.

Days pass, time goes on, and though he has help, Murphy slowly but surely comes to terms with the fact that he is alive and he is not broken,

and then - and then he stops caring about what comes next.

 

**the curtain call;**

_ “Calla lilies are nice.” _

_ “Maybe don’t get flowers for a one-night stand?” _

**Author's Note:**

> that sure was...some words that i wrote there.
> 
> big thanks to jen and stella as per always, and also as per always, give me a shout @sapphictomaz on twitter if you want. or give me a whisper. or don't if you don't want to that's cool too. 
> 
> thanks for reading all the way to the end though you're a real one


End file.
